


Something To Believe In

by SecondFromTheRight



Category: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21748399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondFromTheRight/pseuds/SecondFromTheRight
Summary: “I don’t believe in them anymore, if I ever did” Abe concluded, using Lenny’s words. Finding something like understanding with a profanity-laced comic wasn’t how he’d predicted his night; finding understanding with a man Midge was dating even less so, but somehow this man, this comic, risked freedom to share his voice. What he did mattered enough to fight for it. Abe remembered feeling like he was something like that. “I wasn’t always a two-sweater man.”“Well sometimes it’s cold.” Lenny offered with a shrug.Abe gave a short chuckle at the simplicity before he looked down at his two sweaters. “They are very soft,” he lamented, fingering the fabric of the cardigan. He sighed. “I used to march. I unionised. Icared. I wore turtle-necks in Paris!” he boasted with a turn towards Lenny again. “I’m trying to find that part of myself again,” he explained, a feeling of wanting to present himself well to this person who knew what he cared about, and gave it everything he had, moving him to talk.The 3x01 Lenny and Abe conversation.
Relationships: Lenny Bruce (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel)/Miriam "Midge" Maisel
Comments: 17
Kudos: 254





	Something To Believe In

**Author's Note:**

> I do not feel confident about this. These characters are harder for me to write than any others. There's an odd, mixed POV thing going on in this that I do not usually write, but it's just what happened.
> 
> Not only am I so fucking giddy about that whole scene happening on the show, but the fact that Abe concludes from any conversation that happened still thinking Lenny and Midge are dating is just amazing.
> 
> And Abe's so damn proud "Lenny Bruce" when Midge asks him which man...perfect.

Lenny stared hard at the man on the other bench. Midge’s father. Midge’s father?! It had to be. Christ. “Flowers.” he repeated around his cigarette, testing the theory just in case, hoping for another answer.

“The ones you sent to my home for my daughter Miriam.” Abe confirmed easily.

“Well my night just took a turn I wasn’t expecting,” Lenny muttered. He stayed where he was, opting to lie still instead of clumsily try to present himself as something else. Jig was up. He reached down to put out his cigarette before wrapping his jacket tighter around himself though. “She uh, know you came to my show tonight?”

“It was her idea. Well, in a sense. She yelled, I yelled, there was yelling. A double-please! In my own home,” Abe retold the earlier evening, still affronted by the ‘double-please’. He turned his head slightly to acknowledge Lenny behind him. “She may have had a point though,” he added quietly as he sat in thought. “My daughter is intellectually and socially curious,” he continued to muse. “I’m right about the responsibility issue though,” he added, straightening in new seriousness and turning further to look at Lenny. “In fact, I have questions about the circumstances of this ‘umbrella’ she supplied you with. She’s regularly woefully unprepared for the elements. Purses and shoes everywhere but something as useful as an umbrella? Well.” He shook his head.

Lenny stared in bemusement, another Upper West Side resident with a habit for rambling and segueing a story going through his mind. “It was more of a uh, a metaphorical umbrella.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Abe dismissed as he sat forward again. His tone suggested the matter concluded but Lenny tried to elaborate.

“I had a work thing recently, an appearance on The Steve Allen Show –“ Lenny started, only to cut be off.

“Yes, you mentioned it during your performance. Twice, to different reactions each time. Was that the intention?” Abe asked, barely holding for a response before he continued. “I’ve seen the audiences laugh but I question their intellect, frankly. Miriam’s jokes – I’m unsure she herself understands the point of half of them.” He judged.

Lenny kept his smile to himself, tilting his head and giving a nod. “I wasn’t aware you were an audience for her jokes.” He said, picturing the dozen or so ways that surely went very badly.

“Once or twice. There’s swearing,” Abe said in a low tone and a frown, contemplating his daughter’s material. “You didn’t humiliate your family in your performance,” he noted with another turn over his shoulder towards Lenny. “Was that segment of the act still to come?”

“Midge is more of a stream of conscience comic, than myself. She…presents more of her life, gives it her all.” Lenny tried to explain, but really, there was no category to explain Midge Maisel – other than her being this man’s daughter, perhaps.

Abe turned as much as he could this time, sliding back on the bench for more movement as he stared down at Lenny. “You don’t give it your all? She said you were “the real deal”,” he quoted, making Lenny quirk an eyebrow. “Do you not believe in what you’re saying? You challenged the Supreme Court in your final words. Was that just comic talk? Just telling jokes, man?” he quoted the earlier used words with a forced relaxed manner, his impression of Lenny exaggerated.

Lenny took the man in, completely unprepared for the question about _him_. Again, he was reminded of Midge asking him if he loved it. “I believe in it,” he gave after a moment. “I’m just not too sure it believes in me back much these days.” He said quietly with a shrug, unable to hold eye contact with the older man for long.

“Hm,” Abe hummed as he turned around again. “I told Miriam to inform you that I would not be spending the morning with you.” He said seriously.

Lenny blinked, frowned, opened his mouth to say something and then changed his mind. He rubbed his eyebrow. “Can I enquire about the context of such a statement?” he finally asked with some awkwardness, trying to appear some amount of reasonable. He wasn’t sure how much more nuts this night could turn.

“Benjamin.” Abe supplied simply.

“The doctor.” Lenny acknowledged. Finally, something he actually knew about.

Another turn of the head from Abe. “You’re familiar?” he asked over his shoulder.

“We’ve met.” Lenny confirmed, not elaborating further.

“That’s really very odd,” Abe said with a judging shake of his head. Miriam’s decision to have her previous and current suitor meet was of the many recent determinations his daughter was making that he could not comprehend the reasons behind. The experience of the current suitor in question so far had aligned more with what Miriam had claimed though, Abe thought. “You are a more pleasing proportion of tallness.” He offered to Lenny, his voice changing from condemnation to perky again. Perhaps his proportional quantity of height was something Rose would appreciation, because she really wasn’t going to be thrilled by much regarding Miriam’s choice. Abe himself was something of pleasantly surprised so far.

“That’s really very sweet of you…” Lenny started before abruptly stopping when he realised he didn’t know Midge’s maiden name. The other man’s deliberate silence as he struggled made Lenny think this was where Midge had understood comedic timing from. “Midge’s father.” He finally said in defeat, closing his eyes and pinching the top of his nose with his thumb and forefinger in embarrassment.

“Abe. Weissman” Abe filled in, amusement tinging his words.

Clearing his throat, Lenny pushed himself to sitting position. “Lenny. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Weissman.” He offered his hand awkwardly through the bars.

“Abe is fine, Lenny Bruce,” Abe repeated the full name as he too turned awkwardly, shaking the comic’s hand as much as they could. “Well at least it isn’t the morning – I’m not losing that argument as well.” He determined as he faced forward again. No sir, Miriam wasn’t winning that.

Lenny watched Abe as he stayed sitting side-on along the bench. “So, I think I understand what brought you down to my show, but what made you stay? Why are you in here with me?” he risked asking, frankly fascinated about the situation he’d somehow landed himself in.

“Well, Lenny Bruce, I’ve recently been facing some challenges in my life.” Abe divulged, practically announcing Lenny’s name like he was about to walk on stage.

“Yeah? What sort of challenges?” Lenny asked, hoping Midge herself wasn’t going to be one of those challenges.

“A month ago I had tenure at Columbia as well as what I viewed as the fulfilment of a long-held dream job, and residence in a very fine home I could find peace in,” he started, thinking about how much had changed so quickly. He’d been seeking that change, but so far things were unfolding differently than he’d intended. “I’ve since given up both careers and the apartment – well, Columbia owns it. See, I realised they didn’t mean anything. They didn’t matter,” he explained as he again turned towards Lenny. “I thought they were each contributing to changing the world – I thought _I_ was contributing to changing the world. Shaping minds; innovation, possibility!” he continued passionately before deflating in the face of Lenny Bruce’s serious look. With a sigh, he twisted back to slump slightly on the bench. “But day in, day out, the influence they had…,” he trailed off, realising that while he’d recognised he was wrong, he didn’t know how to go about finding what was right. “Well, it wasn’t what I thought,” he summarised before moving to acknowledge the other man behind him again. “I don’t believe in them anymore, if I ever did” he concluded, using Lenny’s words. Finding something like understanding with a profanity-laced comic wasn’t how he’d predicted his night; finding understanding with a man Midge was dating even less so, but somehow this man, this comic, risked freedom to share his voice. What he did mattered enough to fight for it. Abe remembered feeling like he was something like that. “I wasn’t always a two-sweater man.”

“Well sometimes it’s cold.” Lenny offered with a shrug.

Abe gave a short chuckle at the simplicity before he looked down at his two sweaters. “They are very soft,” he lamented, fingering the fabric of the cardigan. He sighed. “I used to march. I unionised. I _cared_. I wore turtle-necks in Paris!” he boasted with a turn towards Lenny again. “I’m trying to find that part of myself again,” he explained, a feeling of wanting to present himself well to this person who knew what he cared about, and gave it everything he had, moving him to talk. “This is a period of transition I was expecting to navigate easier than it’s been so far.”

Lenny was quiet, absorbing what Midge’s father was sharing with him. “Any idea what’s on the other side?” he asked.

Abe paused, taking the time to consider it. His evening had started so angrily, frustrated with everything going on around him while he stood stuck, having no control of anything. Somehow sitting here, with this man he was scoffing at just hours earlier, he felt calmer than he had in days. He’d listened to Miriam, briefly, and it very well may have paid off. He’d never seriously contemplated the value of comedy past the reactionary laugh. For him, the action of challenging minds, of making people think belonged in the environments he’d spent his career in. He didn’t think such a thing could ever be attributed to comedy. "I don’t find you funny, at all. In fact I found your act very far removed from amusing," he said decidedly. Lenny's gave a slight smirk in response. "But your right to say it, to challenge and provoke others to discuss and involve themselves in the merits of the debate,” he paused again. “It matters.”

Lenny was the one in silence now, having some difficulty with such an obviously profound moment for someone – someone who mattered to someone who mattered to him. A profound, thoroughly unexpected moment. A lot of things happened during and after his shows – sometimes before. Entirely nuts things. He’d met Midge on one of those nights, and now her father. 10 minutes ago, this was turning into an entirely predictable, tiring night he was losing the love for. He wasn’t sure if that few minutes on stage, where he elicited something, where energy was worked and minds challenged and threatened because of something he was bringing to the table was worth it anymore. Those minutes where he got to be real – those few minutes, depending on when he was stopped and pulled off stage, were always worth the consequential hours, but he didn’t know if they were worth the consequential days, weeks and months anymore. Where he was blacklisted over and over, where the space he had became smaller and smaller, and where ultimately the only change was his confinements. It didn’t matter how many shows he did, how many times he pointed out the lacking of intelligent thought in society, it didn’t change anything but his life, and for the worse. He didn’t even have the heart to go on a passionate rant or discussion when someone unexpected genuinely asked him about it anymore, instead pawning it off with a comment about just telling jokes.

And here was Midge’s father, one Abe Weissman, an Upper West Side academic telling him that his profanity, his voice, mattered. That it was thought, worthwhile and should be allowed if not indulged. He owed something back, but he didn’t know what to give. “Moral support,” he piped up with. “The metaphorical umbrella. I was a little nervous about my appearance –“

“On The Steve Allen Show.” Abe filled in for him with a nod.

Lenny laughed, dropping his head. “Yes, on The Steve Allen Show” he smirked before pausing and allowing his tone to change. “Midge came with me, for moral support.”

“Well that was nice of her.” Abe complimented softly. It was some amount of responsibility, Abe supposed. Emotional. Not as important and there was every chance Miriam had just wanted to see the glamour of a studio set, but still, it was nice.

“It was.” Lenny agreed, just as softly. Lenny heard it; Abe heard it too.

“I don’t understand how that amounts to bringing an umbrella, but it does explain the implausibility of Miriam carrying one,” Abe said with slight disgruntlement, pushing back against the moment slightly. “Thank you for clearing that up.” He offered the add on, trying to find a balance between the feelings circling him.

“You’re very welcome.” Lenny indulged what he could.

“My daughter thinks you’re it,” Abe stated after a moment, modelling the mood once again. “She sees you as the embodiment of importance and relevance, of talent and courage. She sees you as something worth defending – worthy of a double-please,” he continued, hearing Miriam claim his ignorance of Lenny Bruce meant he was wholly ignorant. The only time during her short visit home where she hadn’t argued back had been when she was too distracted by flowers from this man. “She believes you matter, she believes in you, and what you do on that stage,” he continued, using the same words again as the first real acceptance of what this comedy life may be like for her filled his mind. Perhaps it would be better for her to share it with someone who understood it, someone she’d champion just as much as he would her. Benjamin would keep her in hats, but his daughter was continuing to show that wasn’t enough for her anymore. Benjamin wouldn’t have walked on this journey with her. She’d hated piano, but she didn’t hate this. If she didn’t quit it after all, she would have support around her, with this person. It had to stick. With this person, this comic he was spending his evening with, Miriam wouldn’t be alone. This man’s entire existence seemed to be about making a lasting, thoughtful impression that directed further meaningful action. It wasn’t an awful thing to represent. “Is that reciprocated?” he turned as much as he could to face the man he was talking to, finding the comic staring at him.

Lenny sat with a serious, furrowed brow aimed at Abe, his head tilted as he half hid behind a hand over his mouth. With a breath, he allowed his hand to drop to his lap. “I believe in Midge, on stage and off it,” he replied as he met Abe’s eyes before giving a short, dry laugh and ducking his head under the scrutiny. He cleared his throat, letting himself think about Midge and what her random entrance into his life had meant. “She’s a much needed presence of light and surprising clarity in this world,” he declared, a room of laughing patrons in his head as she manipulated their emotions through her simply being there, as she made their night better, smarter and lovelier all at the same time. “In my world.” He found himself admitting quietly as he met the look of Abe again.

The older man nodded, a thoughtful twist of his mouth on his face. “Okay then.” Abe accepted as he turned forward and sat back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading.  
> I may continue it. Like I said, I don't feel sure about this fic, but I want to.
> 
> Again, this whole arc I think is simply wonderful, and the fact that the Lenny experience seems to positively effect Abe so much is actually perfect.
> 
> <https://secondfromtheright.tumblr.com/>


End file.
